On the Auction Block (15 page)

Mrs. Dodge understood, too, and shook her
head in disgust. Her foot twitched, but she didn’t lash out at
Flame. Yet.

Flame pressed on. “What’s important about
this call is that it is one of the few opportunities that you’ll
ever have to contact a titled lady on your initiative. It’s a rare
chance but you must not overplay it. Just thank her sincerely and
offer to return the favor. Don’t try to engage her in any further
conversation. If she wants to talk about anything else, then let
her speak with you and respond naturally. But that’s not likely.
After you’ve said what you have to say, that you’d be honored to do
her any favor that she might wish at any future opportunity, the
conversation will be over, but you must not hang up the phone. She
must be the one to hang up. That’s important. She has the rank so
it’s her prerogative to decide when the call is over. It will
probably feel completely natural when she responds to your offer
and then disconnects. The whole call is going to be easy and feel
natural to both of you, but it must be done today. Waiting for a
few days would be rude.”

“I understand.”

“Oh, and one other thing. It’s possible that
she won’t be available to speak and that you’ll be talking to her
maid or secretary. Just leave a message that you would like to
thank Lady Hoffman personally for the favor that she did for you
and leave your name and number. She’ll probably call back, but
don’t be offended if she doesn’t. That would only mean that she has
accepted your gratitude already.”

“I understand. I just thank her for sending
the slave to help me.”

“God, no. Don’t say that the slave helped
you. Any reference to the work that the slave did would be a
serious breach of courtesy because it would remind her of the
underlying truth of the situation. Just say that you want to thank
her for her favor. That’s all. You can say that you want to thank
her so much or that you are deeply grateful. You have lots of
latitude in how you describe your gratitude. But don’t refer to
anything about what the slave did or didn’t do. You aren’t supposed
to know anything about what she did or how she performed or how
satisfactory she was.”

Mrs. Dodge smiled wryly. “This call might not
be so easy as you say.”

“Sure it will. You’ll do great. Just keep it
simple.”

“I do have one question,” Mrs. Dodge
said.

“Of course.”

“Did Lady Hoffman’s slave perform to
everyone’s satisfaction?”

Flame’s blush burned so brightly on her face
that she earned her name.

Mrs. Dodge laughed in delight. “You really
are a lady inside. You foolish, foolish slave.”

Flame was still blushing but she forced a
smile and replied, “Sapphire’s performance was delightful.”

“Get out of here.” There was no kindness in
Mrs. Dodge’s voice.

When Flame rose from the chair and turned to
the door, Mrs. Dodge kicked her ass so hard that she almost flew
out the door.

But that evening, when Mrs. Dodge told Flame
to go to the bathroom and wait for her dinner, she set a plate of
fresh food on the floor instead of dumping scraps directly on the
tiles.

And she didn’t step in it before she
left.

Flame was discovering that Mrs. Dodge had a
subtle and sophisticated sense of humor.

And she had been learning Flame’s lessons in
comportment well.

She was no fishwife. If she were titled, she
would fit well into proper society.

* * *

The Dodges hosted a half dozen formal dinners
over the next three weeks. These were smaller than Flame’s first
entertainment – only two couples were invited at a time. After each
dinner, she was brought to the billiard room to service the three
gentlemen by herself.

She had learned a lot from her duet with
Sapphire and was clever enough to adapt it to a solo show that was
less elaborate but just as theatrical.

She always began dressed as a lady, complete
with proper makeup and hair. When she was led into the billiard
room, she stripped slowly and provocatively, telling the men what
it felt like to be transformed from a lord’s wife to a slave. That
was her special story and she told it well.

After she let her hair down, she would bend
over a padded bench and offer “Gentleman’s choice!” The two guests
would use her; Dodge never bothered taking her himself. Most of the
men penetrated her cunt rather than violating her asshole.

Next, while she was still bent over, Dodge
would exhort her to “give his honored guests her all!” To motivate
her, he would administer a light paddling that stung and reddened
her ass.

The paddling was her idea but Dodge was happy
to play along.

She would squirm and bounce theatrically,
shrieking comically and playing the clown. The paddling hurt, but
the men’s laughter took a lot of the sting out of the strokes. She
enjoyed pleasing them.

Later, after the men sat with drinks and
conversed for a while, they would return to her. She would sink to
her knees and service the men orally. Those were her finest
moments. She had developed considerable expertise with her lips and
tongue and could give a man more than a quarter hour of exquisite
frustration as she teased him with almost enough stimulation to
climax but not quite.

At close, she would be handcuffed and left on
her knees, her head hanging in shame, her hair a curtain around her
face, her inner thighs sticky with the juices of the strangers who
had recently violated her. She was the picture of a degraded and
humiliated slave – a poignant contrast to the high and haughty lady
that had entered the room at the beginning of the
entertainment.

After the men had cleared the room, she would
unlock herself with the key that was left on the toy shelf, clean
the room, and retire to her kennel.

She had become an accomplished entertainer
and she felt appreciated by the gentlemen. The morose knight, Sir
Drake, was a guest more often than not, and even he lightened up
and laughed at her antics when she was being paddled. He, more than
any other guest, seemed to love the erotic frustration of her
artfully-prolonged fellatio.

Occasionally one of the guests would be
mean-spirited. A couple of them violated her asshole with fast,
hard thrusts that were intended to cause pain and elicit tears. She
was fastidious about keeping herself stretched and lubed and those
men never caused damage. But she satisfied them by screaming and
gasping and beating her fists ineffectually against the bench. And
when a guest urged Dodge to strike hard with the paddle, urged him
to make it really hurt, he always obliged and delivered a solid
punishment to her ass. She stopped the clowning and took the
beating like a properly-chastised slave, whimpering and crying.

But she and the other guests understood that
those just the ways that some gentlemen were best amused. None of
them tried to crush her as subtly and as brutally as Grenfeld
had.

She was given nothing that she couldn’t
handle with ease and élan.

Dodge always visited her the day after a
formal dinner and debriefed her. He wanted her assessment of the
titled men that she had entertained. These were knights and
baronets that she had seldom met before so she could give little
background. Sometimes she had a heard a bit of gossip about one or
two, but nothing of consequence.

More important, he also expected her to
listen carefully to the men’s conversation when she was slumped on
the floor after her paddling. Dodge encouraged the titled gentlemen
to talk about their society. He loved to hear anecdotes and
gossip.

During the debriefing the next day, Flame
could give him a detailed analysis these anecdotes that illuminated
each guest’s attitudes, position in society, and relationships with
his peers.

On those days, Dodge did not use her for sex.
After he had seen her violated by other men, he preferred to wait
for a second day. Even though he hadn’t minded sharing Sapphire
with everyone during that entertainment, he was a bit fastidious
about Flame.

Flame was expressing her gratitude to Barry,
her kennelman, orally every few days. She had initiated that on the
ruse that she needed to learn to give good head because she’d never
done it before.

That had turned out to be more than a
ruse.

She had thought that the mechanics of giving
head would be obvious and it was at the basic level. But Barry had
been giving her master classes. What she learned from him, she had
practiced with Dodge’s guests until she was a virtuoso.

She had become intimately familiar with every
part of the penis. The tip of the head was different than the ridge
and groove that separated the head from the shaft. The shaft was
different at the root than it was near the head. The top of the
shaft was different than the underside.

Each of these parts generated different
sensations depending on whether they were kissed, licked, or
sucked.

And she had developed a model of the inside
of the penis. Squeezing it with her fingers at the sides was
different that squeezing it top to bottom or wrapping her fingers
around it and compressing it. She had learned to judge the blood
flows through the major veins and the pressure of the blood inside
that make it erect.

More important, she had enough experience
with enough different cocks to know how they varied in size and
shape from man to man and to know how different men responded to
each of the different sensations that she could generate.

She could spend ten minutes giving a man one
different sensation after another without repeating herself, and
then she could move on to a second man and give him a completely
different range of experiences that were tailored specifically for
his size and shape.

She didn’t especially enjoy having a man’s
cock shoved in her mouth, but she loved being able to astound the
man with her skill. When she was on her knees, gentlemen were her
puppets and their penises contained all the strings that she could
pull to make them dance to her tune.

Sex was the only power that a slave had so
she wanted to learn to exploit it to the utmost.

After a dozen dinner parties, which required
that she give head to more than two dozen men, she realized that
she had only begun to exploit her sexuality.

After relieving Barry of a heavy load – she
suspected that he sometimes saved himself for her when he knew that
she would soon be going down on him – she swallowed and then said,
“I was thinking.”

“Oh, oh,” he said. “I hate it when a slave
starts thinking because it’s only a matter of time until I’ll be
putting antiseptic cream on another set of cane lines. I recommend
that you stop thinking right now and don’t start again.”

“Don’t worry. These thoughts aren’t going to
get me caned.” Easy to say, but her stomach clenched at the thought
of the heavy black cane that was hanging on the wall. She never
wanted to feel that on her flesh. “You’ve taught me to give expert
blow jobs.”

“You’re a brilliant pupil.” He grinned. “It
was my pleasure. Literally.”

“Thanks. Anyway, I was thinking that I
probably need to learn just as much about regular sex as the oral
variety. I pretty much let a man stick his cock into my cunt and
bang away. My reflex is to push back in the same rhythm until he
comes. But there’s got to be a lot more that I can learn about
that, too. Just as much as you’ve taught me about giving head.”

“Oh, no! I told you what happens if I
penetrate you below the waist. I’m not going down there for
anything. Ever.” He looked upset. On the cusp of anger. “I told you
that you were never to tempt me with that.”

He poked and prodded her sexual organs in his
daily health checks, but he always wore latex gloves like any
medical professional. He was adamant about never touching her below
the waist with bare skin. He valued his own sexual organs too
much.

“I’m not offering anything to you,” she said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll beat you away with every ounce of my strength if
you ever try to have sex with me. You couldn’t get it into me even
if you wanted to.”

“Thanks.”

“I just want to know if there’s anything that
I can do to be a better …” She couldn’t say
lover
because
there was no love in what owners did to slaves.

“Sex partner.” He filled in the blank for
her.

She didn’t think that what she experienced
daily was a
partnership
, either, but she nodded because he
had the idea.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll look into
it.”

When he didn’t mention anything for a few
days, she thought that he had forgotten about her request, but one
morning, after her physical, he said, “I asked a few people about
your problem.”

“Problem?”

“How you can make your cunt perform
better.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Sometimes slaves try to make their cunts
physically stronger. Your vagina is a tube of muscles. You can
exercise them to strengthen them. If your cunt is more fit then it
will stand up to the requirements of your duties better. More
germane to your question, though, is that you can use that strength
to squeeze a cock when it’s inside you. I heard that some slaves
have developed enough strength and control to massage a cock to
orgasm.”

“Men always have an orgasm when they fuck
me.”

“Not this way. Imagine that you lie on your
back and a man penetrates you and neither one of you moves. You do
nothing but keep squeezing him with your cunt until he’s so excited
that he comes. No hands. No thrusting. Nothing but an internal
massage. Or he might lie on his back and let you mount him and give
him the same treat.”

“You think that’s possible?”

“I heard. I don’t know if it’s real or
not.”